


Business with the Family

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His first day back on the job after being away in the Human World, Renji loses a Kuchiki cousin to bandits.  He might be in a little trouble....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business with the Family

“With me, Renji.”

Byakuya’s deep voice fell like a hammer on Renji’s head, but there wasn’t anything to do but make his nod a goodbye to the head bodyguard and fall into step behind his captain dutifully.

An icy wind howled off the estate’s wall, pulling fiercely at Renji’s topknot as they walked along the gravel path. In the grass beside them, the low-growing snowy camellia shivered and shook pathetically. Renji felt like doing the same thing. 

He’d lost a Kuchiki on his first day back at work. 

God, what a cluster fuck.

Thanks to his inexperience, there’d been no shinigami to guard the cousin. Now she was in the hands of some bandits… or worse. An unarmed noblewoman on her own in the Rukongai? Renji finally gave in to the urge to shudder.

And Byakuya had just countermanded the order to organize search parties to go after her. What the hell? It didn’t seem right. Especially since they had the resources and the strength. The whole fucking point of becoming a shinigami was to never have to leave anyone behind again.

Renji wanted to point out that, while the kidnapping could be some kind of prelude to a trap, the two of them—hell, Byakuya on his own—could take out almost anyone in the Soul Society. Maybe Kenpachi or the Head Captain would be a bit of a fight, but, c’mon Kaien? No way Byakuya couldn’t pulverize that punk. And Senbonzakura was a thousand flying projectiles of death—it could literally wipe out an army.

But there was no talking to Byakuya when he was like this.

The silence was thunderous. The only sound was the whistling wind and gravel crunching under sandals.

Right about now, Renji wished he were back in his old regiment. Kenpachi was as scary as Kuchiki, but so much more straightforward. When you screwed up, there was no question that the smart move was own up and take your beating. 

Renji had no idea what he should do here or what the consequences might be. 

Well, in the absence of a better plan, go with what you know. “This is my fault,” Renji said. “I was even thinking about the liaison work Miisho did right before I left for the Human World. For fuck’s sake, that’s how we found out about his marriage contract. I should’ve had this covered, Taicho. No cousin should be without shinigami escort. I screwed up.”

“Why are you so quick to throw yourself at my mercy when you know full well I have none?”

“Uh….” Renji’s sandal slipped on the gravel path and he nearly stumbled. He caught himself on the wall and stared at the white haori moving away. What the fuck was this? Renji figured Byakuya was pissed off, but holy shit.

Would he demand a blood price for the lost Kuchiki?

Well, fuck, if that was how it was going down, Renji couldn’t let someone else take the hit for him. He shook the rock from his sandal. “Oi, wait up.”

Byakuya paused, his head turned slightly.

Renji jogged to make up the distance between them. “You can take it out of my hide if you want to, Taicho; I deserve it. But, don’t you think it’d be fuck-all more satisfying if we hunted down that little shit Miisho and all his cohorts and pulverized ‘em?”

There was a soft, unexpected chuckle. “Yes, I imagine that would be very satisfying.”

Okay, so maybe there was little glimmer of hope. Emboldened, Renji said, “So, let’s go kill them first. You can kill me after.”

Byakuya turned around. His face was its usual hard mask, but Renji thought he saw a little sadness in his eyes. “You’re not to blame for this. I sent an armed guard with Hiroko.”

“Wait, what? Shinigami? Ours? What happened to them?”

“They apparently think so little of their captain that they deserted.”

“Those are our runners? You’re fucking kidding me? We got to hunt those bastards down and string them up!”

“You mean like I did when you deserted?”

“Uh…” Renji had been working up a good steam and it all deflated in a rush of air that escaped out his open mouth. Okay, so this was what was going on with Byakuya. He was feeling like a shitty captain. 

What could Renji say or do to fix this? His mouth closed, and then opened and closed again as he continued to try to figure the right angle of approach. Apparently, Renji went too long without speaking because Byakuya’s eyes showed a stab of hurt and disappointment. Turning away, he started heading toward the estate.

Renji scrambled to get into place just behind him, close enough that they could talk without shouting. “We don’t know why these guys did a runner, Taicho. ”

“Are you attempting to suggest there’s a situation where such an action is excusable?”

Byakuya’s tone was all warning, but Renji snarled back. “I ain’t attempting to suggest nothing, sir. I’m telling you there’s lots of reasons why a guy might do something stupid and run off. You got names, don’t you? So who are they? They got any reasons Miisho’s money might have been worth their disgrace?”

“What ridiculous nonsense are you spouting, Renji? There’s no defensible reason for a Sixth Division soldier to abandon his post.”

“No? How about family? That’s why I did it. That’s why you got in between Ichimaru’s blade and Rukia, ain’t it?”

There were several minutes of tense silence. Renji couldn’t see, but he could easily imagine the thin line of Byakuya’s lips pressed together tightly before he finally said, “And exactly how is it you imagine family plays into this particular scenario?” Byakuya’s tone was getting hard-edged and clipped. On any other man, it’d be screaming, incoherent rage. 

“We don’t know do we?” Renji said. “What if them guys took a pay-off because they got some chronically sick parent and they already maxed out on the Division’s loan allowance? One could have some dick for a relative who got himself in deep with some moneylender, right? I could think of a half-dozen more stupid reasons to need a sudden influx of cash that a guy might not want to go to his superior officer about.”

“And we should forgive this because…?”

Renji had no answer for that. “I guess you don’t have to. I’m just saying maybe they got some reason for going AWOL beyond disrespect.”

“Ah.” Renji couldn’t tell if that was relief in Byakuya’s voice or not, but his shoulders seemed to drop a millimeter. 

They’d come to the estate. Renji stepped ahead and pulled the door open for Byakuya. But, rather than step through, Byakuya stopped and seemed to study the threshold at his feet. “Did this all come down to money, Renji?”

“Most things do.”

Letting out a dark chuckle, Byakuya glanced up at Renji, “Miisho’s communiqué makes him out to be a romantic, having stolen back his bride-to-be.”

“Wait, Miisho is taking credit for the raid?”

Byakuya stepped into the alcove to remove his shoes. “He had the audacity to send a Hell Butterfly as though he were still in the Gotei. Moreover, he claims no wrong-doing, only that he ‘rescued’ my cousin.”

“He’s a filthy liar,” Renji said, kicking off his own sandals after closing the door. “People got hurt; stuff got taken. Both those things were crimes last time I checked: assault and theft.”

Byakuya waited at the inner door until Renji joined him. “Miisho says those things were done by a mob of opportunists who took advantage of the confusion.”

“I call bullshit,” Renji said, opening the door for Byakuya again. “I mean, maybe… if the carts were passing through the center of some low district in the middle of the day when a lot of people were around, but the head teamster nearly lost an arm protecting the passkey. A passkey ain’t edible. That kind of target sounds like bandits to me.”

Byakuya nodded. “And, though food was taken, it was only the luxury items. Sacks of rice were left untouched. All the fruits made it, unbruised.”

“Yeah, you’d think an opportunistic mob would be… well, more opportunistic and just grab whatever they could carry.”

“Precisely,” Byakuya said, leading them toward his second floor study. “They seemed to know exactly which boxes to steal and on which carts to find them.”

Renji nodded as they climbed the stairs, “So, there’s our proof. Miisho has to be the one feeding the information to the bandits, right? I mean it’s got to be him.”

“Except, Renji, we relieved him of duty long before these items were ordered and the manifests complied.”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck as he slid the office door open. “Yeah, see, I kind of have a theory about that.”

“Oh?” 

“Maybe you ought to ring for tea. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Byakuya’s eyebrow flashed up, but he pressed the bell for the servant anyway. “I’m not sure I can take much more bad news, Renji. I already regret letting Miisho walk out of here with his life. When I think that I may have inadvertently allowed him to fund this debacle, I could just…” 

Renji smiled to himself trying to imagine Byakuya’s version on the ending of that: ‘crinkle my brow in disapproval’ or ‘consider staring sternly at the flower arrangement for hours.’

Except, as funny as that might be, Renji knew the truth: Byakuya’s empty mask hid deep emotions. He was extraordinarily hurt by the desertions and blaming himself for all of it. And, well… mistakes were made all around. Maybe if they’d been able to find a way to talk to Miisho about the fraternization stuff at the start, things might not have gotten so completely out of hand.

Of course, the guy had been a spy for Aunt Massey all along. Things were never going to end well.

A harried-looking Eishiro appeared at Renji’s elbow. He smiled a ‘hello’ up at Renji before dropping to his knees, “You rang, my lord?”

Byakuya had settled himself at his low writing desk. The doors were closed to the icy, howling wind, but Renji had a memory that the view looked down on delicate water garden situated in the heart of a quad. 

Glancing up from whatever work he’d found on his desk, Byakuya asked: “Has Aunt Masama… recovered?”

Renji felt awkward standing, half-leaning into the doorway while Eishiro pressed his head to the floor at his feet. But, Renji’s ears perked up at the question. Recovered? What had happened with the old battle-ax auntie?

Eishiro lifted his head slightly. “Her ladies are comforting her. She’s ordered all the shades drawn in the suite and has retired for the day.”

Man, she must have taken the news about the cousin badly. No wonder Byakuya was in such a state earlier. Kuchiki women in hysterics? Renji didn’t think Byakuya had a lot of coping skills for that. Honestly, he wasn’t sure anyone did.

“I suppose that’s the best that can be hoped for,” Byakuya said sounding weary. With a sigh he added, “Apparently, I’m in need of tea to brace myself.”

“My lord?”

“Renji comes bearing bad news.”

“Yes,” Eishiro said kindly. “I’m sorry to hear your brother is not well. It seems tragedy always strikes our household in multiples.”

Byakuya glanced up from the papers he was sorting. “Something’s happened to Seichi?”

“Oh, uh….” He couldn't exactly say ‘my brother collapsed into quivering jelly at the thought of you and me together,’ so Renji shook his head. “It’s nothing. He’s just, uh, under the weather.”

Byakuya seemed to twig to the idea that something more was up, but he said nothing. Instead, he gave Renji a glance that asked ‘you’ll tell me later?’ to which Renji nodded—even though Renji wasn’t sure how he was going to explain since he didn’t entirely understand it himself.

Even Eishiro got the message that private stuff needed saying and bowed himself out. “Tea will arrive presently, my lord.”

“Thank you, Eishiro,” Byakuya said absently.

Renji wanted to ask for a little food to be sent, too, since he’d had almost nothing for breakfast and had likewise given his lunch to Seichi, but it wasn’t his place. Awkwardly, his stomach decided to speak up for him. Eishiro, who was just getting to his feet, gave Renji a smirk and an understanding nod before disappearing down the hall.

“Stop lurking in the doorway and come tell me this theory of yours,” Byakuya commanded.

Renji always felt a little strange in Byakuya’s office at the estate. It was this weird nebulous place that wasn’t the Division, but was still kind of official and captain-y. Yet, the room felt very much more like it belonged to a private house. There were far more personal belongings decorating the room. A calligraphy piece of poetry hung on the wall. Renji couldn’t entirely parse it, but it said something like, “ _Cast off what has been realized. / Turn back to the subject / That realizes /  To the root bottom / And resolutely / Go on._ ” It was probably meant to be inspirational, but Renji found it too stoic, far too obtuse, and kind of depressing. 

But it seemed like a Byakuya sort of thing, as did the dark stone cat-shaped bookends that held several slim volumes of history on the shelf. One of the pair sat up properly but winked slyly, and the other cat statue yawned and stretched indulgently—clearly a gift from the Lady Yoruichi at some point.

Renji found a close-enough analog to his usual spot in the captain’s Division office and sat down. His back bumped into a vase, but he was able to catch it before it fell. “Smaller space,” Renji noted, as he righted the tall ceramic, highly breakable-looking… object. What even was it? Just decoration, he supposed.

“Are you going to keep me in suspense?”

Renji took a deep breath, “So I had this interaction with the Twentieth Seat that was kind of red-flag-y, or, I don’t know, passive aggressive…?” Why were words failing him right now when he needed them the most? Renji shook his head and tried again, “Anyway, I’d asked him to bring me a report about the attack. He’s our last remaining estate liaison and I figured he’d be on the scene, right? So not only does he not tell me about the deserters, but he doesn’t mention the kidnapping.”

Byakuya nodded as he organized the papers on his desk. “What’s ‘passive-aggressive about that? Could it be that he was just unaware?”

That made him a pretty shit-all seated officer, but Renji supposed it was possible to be that bad at basic reporting. Renji knew some seated officers in the Eleventh he wouldn’t trust to be able to accurately report the weather when it was raining buckets. But, this was the Sixth and the Twentieth was hardly new to the job. “I don't know, Taicho. He gave me unnecessary attitude.”

“Oh?”

Byakuya still wasn’t looking at Renji. Renji had gotten used to having more of his captain’s attention and, even though he figured it was probably some coping mechanism for the shitty day Byakuya was having, it was starting to irritate Renji. 

“Yeah, he kind of implied I knew what stuff might be good to steal,” Renji said.

“Implied?”

Renji cough-murmured, “With his eyes. Kinda.”

Byakuya finally looked up. It was a withering glance that made Renji feel like an overly sensitive tattletale. 

“I see,” was all Byakuya said before going back to his work. 

Renji frowned at the stupid poetry for a long moment, trying not to pout. He should have laid his thoughts out better, but this was the problem with instincts. Sometimes they didn’t translate well outside of his head. This was why Renji never said jack about Aizen. He knew he’d have to say shit like ‘just a feeling I get’ and ‘Zabimaru shuts up around him’—none of which were decent, logical arguments. 

But, he should have said something about Aizen and this was Byakuya, who was not only his captain, but also his lover. If Renji didn’t say anything and bandits breached the walls of the estate, Renji would be responsible. “Look,” he said, “I just think maybe we should have a policy that people who liaise with your family ought to change jobs every hundred years or something, because maybe it’s too easy for people to carve themselves out comfortable little deals.”

“No.”

Well, fuck, Byakuya considered that for about zero seconds. 

There was a soft rap at the door. Servants had arrived with tea and food. Renji fumed silently to himself as the two serving girls set out the tea and platters on Byakuya’s desk. 

“The problem is, Renji,” Byakuya said, moving aside some papers for the tea things. “My family is…. Shall we say, change averse. Replacing Miisho is already going to be traumatic enough. A hundred years is nothing to them.”

One of the servants handed Renji a basket. He took it with an automatic little head bow that made her blink in surprise and giggle. Blushing, he set it in his lap to wait. It was warm, whatever it was, and it was making his stomach growl with anticipation.

“Yeah, but ain’t they going to be freaking out over this cousin’s kidnapping? I mean, shouldn’t we be able to say we’re a hundred percent sure of our people?”

Byakuya’s hand slapped his desk making everyone squeak, even Renji. Byakuya seemed to be doing some kind of deep breathing exercise before he finally said, “How can I assure them, Renji, when my own lieutenant raised his sword against me?”

Renji’s blush darkened at the furtive glances the servants gave as they scurried out the door. He held his tongue until the door slid shut and the sound of feet disappeared down the hall. “What you want me to say to that, Taicho?”

Byakuya’s mouth was thin and his eyes were down. Finally, a tiny muscle on his jaw twitched, and he said, “I’m not sure. But, I need some answer to give my cousin’s father. I can hardly tell him I trust you because you’re my lover.”

Ah, okay, so the family decided this was down to Byakuya’s inability to discipline his troops from lieutenant on down.

“The answer is simple if you ask me, Taicho,” Renji snarled, feeling the responding growl from Zabimaru deep in his soul. “Miisho’s fucking head on a silver platter.”


End file.
